Hatred bound to Love
by Digger McFoogle
Summary: A short piece from the perspective of a favourite character of mine, Bellatrix Lestrange, as she faces fate. BOOK 5 SPOILERS


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Hatred bound to love

Synopsis: A short piece from the perspective of a favourite character of mine, Bellatrix Lestrange, as she faces fate. ***BOOK 5 SPOILERS***

We are slaves to fate, my Lord. You would not know having being banished from your house, but the Dark Dynasties do not take kindly to those who do not follow the path.

What is the path, you say? My dear master, I will explain. You see, our lives are not our own. There are but three of our houses left now after the deaths of those around us… The Lestranges, The Malfoys and the Blacks. The latter are your kin as well as mine, beloved Dark One. Your mother Portia's family lead by the great Marvolo, the ones she abandoned… She was much like our cousin Padfoot. He suffered death for straying, as did she.

We do not live our own lives, Sir. They are carefully planned; we are betrothed at young ages, we are given money to support the lives we need, we are taught to manipulate according to what is required of us. I was betrothed to a man and I accepted it without question. We do, as a rule. But I never loved him, my Lord. I only ever loved you.

I would follow you through eternity as I was taught to. We are bound as Dark Wizards to our Dark Lord… I suppose you must know of the history. The great Grindelwald Merriweather was your predecessor; the last male Merriweather and the concluding chapter to the great family's history. He, like so many others before him, fought with the rules. It is a foolish thing to do, I know… play the evil adversary to a Wizard who will defeat you through good, play a role that you know you will die in, but it is what is known to us.

You do not play by the rules, my Lord.

It is what makes you successful where all others have failed. You are not pure, which makes you immune to the dogging pain that haunts one when they turn their back on their family. You will win; I feel it in my bones, and I have staked the fate of both my houses on you doing so. The defunct Black and Lestrange houses. They rely on your greatness.

It is a strange love we hold for you, great conqueror. You have destroyed the heritage of our kind; a half-blood that possessed the power of a thousand pure wizards seemed almost insulting. Yet there you stood, a living defiance of all we had been taught as children. I for one blocked your true birth from my mind. Only in denial could the love come to me.

But is my love all in the line of duty? I do not know inside my heart…

We are not taught to love, you see. It has been the downfall of some of us. We are shown the example of Morwenna Merriweather, Grindelwald's daughter and heiress, who abandoned her call and duty, oh Dark One, to chase a beautiful blonde boy with undying obsession. She paid her price for her child-love in death, and my dearest Narcissa Black claimed her one bounty. She taught that love carried risk.

But you know all about her. She was your wife.

I remember her dying words were pleading of his safety… a foolish thing indeed. Grindelwald had married her to you in hope that his legacy might tie the Dark Lords, create a power beyond all that had been known. And in a way, he succeeded. Her death at your hands fuelled true power in your blood.

I loved you then.

The sweet intoxication of such power… I would do anything to aid it. Not just the power though, but the one that wields it… so much passed from you to me in the incident of her death. Ironic; I fell in love over the aftermath of its repercussions.

You called me Bella, master. An endearing term that I loved.

You accepted me as your mistress, and I was infatuated, master. My love and duty outweighed anything else in life; indeed, I was proud to go to Azkaban in your name. I was pretty, wasn't I, before I went there? Indeed, I looked much like Merriweather, my hair darker and eyes softer though. Was that the attraction? Was I a surrogate for a betrayer? I did not care.

You managed to free us from Azkaban as I knew you would, oh Dark one. You freed us to one again reign terror in your name… but I have failed you. That is why I kneel before you today. Now I see hatred burn in your eyes.

I will not beg for my forgiveness again, master. I failed, and I know what should come. The cold hand of death does not vex me; it is what we _do_, is it not?

And though I see vexation brew in your eyes, I know one thing. All hate begins with love. And your hatred is no exception. My betrayal has edged me away, but I was close enough to make an impression.

That is what comforts me as I look in your eyes.

You loved me once.


End file.
